


Grievance

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Humor, M/M, hurt-comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-09
Updated: 2005-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>True friends stab you in the front (Oscar Wilde). [02/12/04]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grievance

## Grievance

by silvina

[]()

* * *

Standard Disclaimer. Once upon a midnight dreary they were mine. Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to sdelcul@yahoo.com. 

The worst part was that he'd heard it all before. It was hard enough being the Luthor brat. The can't breathe Annie. Later the meteor freak Daddy Warbucks. By his teenage years he'd counted with revenge and money and stopped caring. Or so he thought. Yet here he was, frozen at the door hearing Clark, his best friend, his Hephestion, agreeing with Pete and Chloe. Perhaps it was remnants of anger over Dr. Hamilton or just a bad day or how Clark really felt. To Lex it didn't matter. 

He'd felt this way before, and promised himself never again. For so many things that had been his motto. Pamela. Amanda. Desiree. Now Clark. He'd given it a try, and like always before the great humanity experiment had failed. That's why he'd always liked science. Molecules did what the laws of physics required. And it felt horrible. Worse then he remembered, even, because the memory, as awful as it was, was only a memory. This, though, was worse. There was something in his throat, and he couldn't swallow, couldn't breathe. Couldn't fucking breathe, dammit, and he forced himself to step away from the door and get in the car. He dropped the keys and picked them up and finally put the right one in the ignition and started the car. He couldn't go home like this so he just drove for a while. Two hours later he found himself just outside of Metropolis in a shitty motel room with a bottle of something alcoholic that wasn't even worthy of being used to disinfect wounds because it tasted like isopropyl. It didn't matter, because he was well on his way to forgetting he'd ever set foot in Smallville, Kansas. 

He woke up the next morning embarrassed at himself. Yesterday had shown him a weakness, and instead of fixing the situation he'd made it worse. Achingly sober he drove home. The long drive helped him push everything down and away. 

If he was going to be tarred and feathered, then he might as well have some fun. He'd give Smallville and Clark Kent the Lex Luthor they'd all envisioned. 

Lionel Luthor would be so proud. 

* * *

It wasn't working. He'd been the revised Lex for two weeks and he wasn't any happier. Business no longer held the same pleasure, neither did fencing. He missed Clark, hell, he even missed Lana Lang and Johnathon Kent. 

Before he could stop himself or change his mind he headed to the Kent farm. Instinct directed him to the loft, and he forced himself to ignore the twinge of pain at remembering the last time he'd been standing here. The stairs seemed much, much longer. 

"Lex! Hi, how are you?" 

He was so fucking beautiful. "Fine. And yourself?" 

"I'm okay. I missed you, though. Can you stay a while? I know you've been really busy lately." 

"Yeah. I can stay, unless you wanted to go for a ride or something." He gestured vaguely at the car. "I wanted to talk to you about something." 

"Sure, Lex. Let me just tell Mom I'm going." 

He had to laugh as Clark sped down the stairs and to the house. Once they were on the road he headed to a scenic overlook and pulled over. 

"Oh no. This sounds serious." 

He looked away. "It is." 

"Oh." 

"I know what the people of Smallville think about me. People like your father." 

"Lex he just doesn't know you." 

"And you do?" 

Clark smiled like the answer was blatantly obvious. "Yes." 

"And that makes a difference?" 

"Of course it does." 

"I heard what you said to Chloe and Pete a few weeks ago." 

"Huh? When? Oh." He blushed. 

"Honestly I expected better from you, Clark. You could have just told me. I wouldn't have bothered you again." 

"I didn't mean it. Not really." 

"Then why say it?" 

"I was just letting off some steam." 

"You were mad at me? Why?" 

"Not mad. Just." Clark looked away. 

"Just what? Clark, please I need to know." 

"Honestly I was just frustrated. I like you Lex, I really like you, but sometimes it's like you don't want to let people get close to you." 

Lex nodded, knowing it was true. "And that's all it was?" 

"I'm sorry I said it and even sorrier you heard it." 

"That doesn't answer my question." 

"Why does it matter?" 

"Because I want to believe you. I want to believe that you're not like everyone else in this town. I need to believe that you're not only pretending to be my friend." 

"I'm not. You're my best friend, Lex." 

"Promise?" 

"Yeah. I promise. The next time I get frustrated I'll just leave a voicemail calling you a doodiehead." 

They both laughed. "Okay." A part of him knew he was taking a risk, a big risk. A bigger part of him didn't care. Clark had promised, and he didn't blow off promises. Besides, Lex figured, he could handle being called a doodiehead. 


End file.
